


just a frog

by rhymeswithpi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chocobos, Comfort, Fluff, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi
Summary: Sure, it's probably a frog, but it couldalsobe something unspeakably horrible that wants to kill them all in their sleep.This... this is probably why they don't let him keep watch.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greyskiesblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyskiesblack/gifts).



> Maybe one of these days I'll feel worthy of that Ignoct fic you wrote me, but in the meantime, HERE'S YOUR PROMPTIS FIC YOU NERD. <3

“Just a frog, Prom,” Noct says, holding it up. “See? Harmless.”  
“Oh,” he says with a forced laugh. “Neat.”  
Noct holds the frog up for a minute more while he snaps a picture. It hops away while he stows his camera, disappearing back into the darkness beyond the haven. He can hear Gladio snoring in the tent a few feet away, and if nothing else, it’s comforting to know he and Iggy are getting some sleep. Besides, he and Noct can definitely handle keeping watch for a while. The others do this every night, and yeah, maybe the one time he kept watch before, he ended up waking Iggy and Gladio up so often that they gave up on sleeping and sent him to bed, but he’s not _alone_ this time. Between the two of them, they can _definitely_ handle anything that gets too close, right? Even the empire can’t be bold enough to drop a shipload of MTs on them in the middle of the night. And he can help keep Noct awake, if Noct will keep reminding him they’re not about to die horribly.  
“Guess they really needed sleep, huh?” he says, poking at the fire with a stick. “Not often Iggy doesn’t fight and just makes Cup Noodles for dinner.”  
Noct hums a response, leaning closer to the fire. Prompto jumps at a noise in the bushes, wincing when Noct heaves yet another sigh. Mumbled apologies spill from his lips, and he pokes at the fire a few more times. If he could just throw all his fears into the flames and watch them burn, that would be great. Life is cruel, though, and he fidgets with the stick for a few minutes.  
“I guess if we’re being _fair_ ,” Noct says, “Iggy did mean to make something better for dinner. Can’t exactly say we expected them to get ambushed looking for ingredients.”  
“Yeah,” he says. “Guess we should be glad they got away ok, huh?”  
Noct shrugs and leans back in his camp chair before reaching over to take the stick from him. It’s easier to do this with Noct here. He still doesn’t _like_ the dark, but really, who does? Whatever might be hiding out there just seems a bit less overwhelming when he’s not alone, and it’s loads better than sitting in the tent, worrying about the noises and how cramped the space is and whether or not there’s enough airflow or if they’ll all suffocate in their sleep. Sighing, he hauls himself out of his chair and packs up the things they won’t need in the morning, stacking them neatly by the tiny camp table. If he spends an extra minute petting the chocobo’s neck feathers, no one’s awake enough to notice.  
The nights are just getting longer, and whether or not the others admit it, he knows it has to be true. The daemons have been getting bigger, stronger, faster. He can hear _something_ out there in the darkness, something large and vicious that would almost definitely kill them if the runes protecting the haven weren’t there. He can feel the slight tremors of its footsteps in the ground, almost see it if he stares hard into the darkness beyond the edge of the rock they’re camping on.  
“Prom?” Noct says, yawning loudly. “How about some coffee?”  
He nods and rummages through the supplies to find matches. His hands shake as he tries to light the camp stove, broken matches piling up as he fails again and again to light one. Finally, one lights, and he holds it to the base of the camp stove, flinching back with a soft cry when it ignites. He sticks the burnt finger in his mouth on impulse, eyes squeezed shut. Fingers wrap around his wrist and pull it away from his face.  
“It’s not that bad,” Noct says, squinting in the soft light of the fire. “If it’s bothering you in the morning we can make Iggy take a look at it, alright?”  
He nods and lets Noct take over the coffee, shrinking back to the safety of the fire to examine his finger. It’s a bit pink at most, barely even touched by the flame. He was startled, he tells himself. Totally a reasonable reaction. It barely stings. Noct comes back a few minutes later, handing him a cup of coffee and sinking into the empty chair. They stare at the fire in silence as they drink. Prom stares into the bottom of his cup, thoughts still racing. He can still hear whatever’s out there, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s real or imagined at this point, but it _could_ be there. Anything could be there, just waiting for a chance to spill their blood on the rocks. Noct tugs the cup out of his hands and sets it on the ground between them before lacing their fingers together with a gentle squeeze.  
“Breathe, Prom. We’ll be fine.”  
He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, shaking with the effort. He smiles weakly and shifts his chair a bit closer to Noct, squeezing back. They make idle small talk for a while until Noct gets up to refill their cups and turn off the stove. Prompto drags the chairs next to each other while he’s up, leans up against Noct’s shoulder when he sits back down. The sun is starting to peek over the horizon, and he looks pointedly into the fire to avoid noticing whatever’s still lurking out there. The sun will banish the remaining daemons before much longer.  
“It’s getting easier, right?” Noct asks. “Sleeping, I mean. Those first few nights, you barely slept at all.”  
“Yeah,” he says. “Still not my _favourite_ thing, but I guess it’s easier.”  
“Good to hear.”  
He’s never felt quite so worthless, really. Even though Noct has told him before that he’s good enough, he can never quite believe it. Nights like this just drill that into him more, nights when all he can think about are the ways he would fail his friends if it came right down to it. He’s not strong enough or fast enough or smart enough to save them, and right now he’s too tired to convince himself otherwise. Instead of dwelling, he lays his head on Noct’s shoulder and watches the fire burn down.  
-  
The others drag themselves out of the tent shortly after dawn, stifling yawns and stretching. Gladio pauses to pet the chocobo before tearing down the tent.  
“We’d best get going,” Iggy says, packing up the camp stove and table. “We can find breakfast at the next diner.”  
Prompto nods, yawning widely. Noct looks like he’s about to fall asleep in his chair. Gladio hauls them both to their feet and starts strapping their equipment to the chocobo’s saddle, and he lets himself sit down on the bare rock while the camp is packed away. His eyelids are so heavy and he is so _tired_ , he can’t imagine walking back to the car, much less standing up again. Gladio helps him upright again, shoves the chocobo’s reins in his hand, and they’re moving whether he likes it or not.  
He stumbles once or twice on the trek back to the car, exhaustion blurring the edges of his vision. He keeps the chocobo’s reins firmly in his hand, and the bird warks gently at him as he picks himself back up. Gladio looks back, concerned, and he waves him off. Iggy’s too busy fussing over Noct to pay him any mind. Besides, after everything they’ve been through to keep him and Noct safe for the last few days, he can definitely manage to get to the car.  
The chocobo stays next to him on the worst of the uphill climb, letting him hold onto its saddle to stay upright. He trips a few times, but the chocobo slows and waits for him to regain his footing every time. By the time they reach the road again, he’s breathing hard and his feet are heavier than lead, but the car is finally in sight. He slides in next to Noct in the backseat before Gladio has a chance to object, quietly grabbing Noct’s hand again. Gladio’s busy unloading their gear from the chocobo, anyway, and it sprints off as the last of its load is removed. The trunk slams closed. He leans up against the door, unable to keep his eyes open.  
-  
He blinks awake, sunlight peeking through the drawn curtains. A warm heavy weight is pinning him to the bed. Noct, his mind supplies. Motel, based on the lumpy mattress and ugly wallpaper. There’s another bed across the room, piled with their gear. His phone is plugged in on the nightstand, and he picks it up to check the time. It’s barely after noon, and he’s still _tired_. It makes sense, really, considering they were awake until dawn. A few hours of sleep isn’t enough to completely wipe away the exhaustion. The message on the screen tells him Iggy and Gladio are out getting supplies, that they’ll be back in a couple hours.  
He looks down at the mop of hair pressed against his chest, allows himself a smile before pressing a small kiss to the top of Noct’s head. He rolls himself into Noct’s embrace and settles down to sleep some more.  
So maybe he’s not the fastest or the strongest. He’s not the smartest by far. He’s afraid of what is probably just a frog croaking in the dark, and the thought of going into another dark cave in search of one of the royal arms terrifies him beyond belief. He’d face it all, though, if it meant seeing Noct like this when it was over, if it meant getting to wake up next to him. This was worth it.


End file.
